(AN: As I said at the first, this story will feature a major re-write of The Great War of Oz, so things will be a little different here than they were in there. Which also includes the introduction of a new character [well, if you've read the first one, then said character is not that new].)

(Also, if any of you have ever read the Oz-series, you will note that there are dozens of characters in Ozma's retinue. I don't know all of them, but the chief ones are the ones from the first five or seven Oz-series books, pretty much the ones that I could remember. Featuring them all would be quite a chore [but if there are any you would like to have appear who have not, please list me their name and I'll see if I can fit them in]).

The Ambassador General

"Do nothing?" Dorothy asked over dinner.

As usual, the table was filled with Ozma and her retinue of friends from all of the adventures they had undertaken together. But the chief ones - the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodsman, the Lion, the Hungry Tiger, Jack Pumpkinhead and the Shaggy Man - sat at seats closest to the head of the table. Here there were three seats prepared. The greatest one was reserved for Ozma: at her right was the seat prepared for Dorothy, and at her left was the one prepared for none other than Oscar Zoroaster Diggs.

The man formerly known as the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

"Exactly," Ozma returned. "Whatever Glinda's done is for the best of Oz, and we don't need to concern ourselves with her whereabouts."

"But the people in Munchkinland?"

"If we were to be concerned," Ozma replied. "Glinda would make it our business by telling us about it."

"But...but still!"

"Still what?" Ozma giggled. "There's nothing to be concerned about. Just eat your food."

Dorothy sighed and returned to her plate.

While they continued eating, most of their conversation was small-talk. Sure, the Tin Woodsman and the Scarecrow had their usual debate over which was superior - the brains or the heart - but otherwise, everything in Oz seemed a tad boring.

"But doesn't it bother you, just in the itty-bittiest way," Dorothy said. "That there are people in Oz who are revolting against you?"

"Nonsense!" Ozma replied. "Glinda will sort it all out."

"And what if she doesn't arrive in time?" Brr, the Cowardly Lion, queried with fright.

"Oh, you worry too much," Ozma dismissed. "A quick wave of the Love Magnet, and they'll forget all about their petty little problems and go back to loving me!" She ended on a high note with a broad, self-absorbed smile on her face.

The doors were thrown open and Captain Omby Amby, that odd little man with the orange whiskers, ran into the dining hall.

"What is it, my Royal Army?" Ozma asked. "You have disrupted our meal. Naughty!"

"I beg your pardon, Your Ozma-ness," he said, bowing so low that his beard swept the floor. "But there is a very strange man outside who is asking for an audience with you, Your Oz...ma...ness."

She laughed. "All the strange people are in here with me!"

"This one is different," the captain said. "I don't think he's from Oz at all."

"Send him away," she dismissed. "Tell him I'll see him another day." She laughed. "Oh my! I do believe I made a rhyme!" The others sycophantically echoed her laughter.

"He looks serious!" Omby Amby added.

"Oh, fine, whatever," Ozma sighed in annoyance. "Now you've put me off my appetite."

"Actually, it was him who did it," he pointed towards the doors of the Emerald Palace. Ozma picked up her scepter and tip-toed on her glass slippers towards the audience-chamber of the Throne Room. Omby Amby scurried to push the gates open and to drive himself red-faced as he hurried around her, announcing her various titles and honorifics as she cantered slowly towards her throne. Once upon it, she giggled at the portly guard, now sweating and panting from his announcement, then turned towards the kneeling guest.

He looked very odd, wearing violet instead of green, trimmed with silver rather than gold. Upon the breast of his uniform jacket was a shield with a V juxtaposed on top and entwined within an E, similar to the O-within-the-Z symbol of Oz. He was also rather old, his dark hair turning gray and his face old and scarred. The strangest and most out of place thing about him, as far as Ozian decorum, was the sword that sat in its scabbard upon his belt. His right arm was covered in silver plates up to the shoulder, and his right leg was covered in silver plates up to the waist.

"And just who are you?" Ozma inquired.

"My name is Evemar Kloxolk," he introduced. "I am General of the Royal Army of Ev and acting ambassador between the King of Ev and the Ozma of Oz."

Ozma smiled. "Well, I am Ozma, girl-ruler of Oz, heir of Lurline, sovereign of Gilikin, bearer of the Magic Wishing Belt, keeper of the Love Magnet, friend of Dorothy, acting potentate of Munchkinland, constant companion to Glinda the Good, Super-Over-Empress..."

"I understand," General Kloxolk nodded.

"But you didn't even let me get to 'The Greatest Ruler of All Time' and 'Protector of the Stupid People of Oz!'"

"Is it wise to call your own people stupid?" Kloxolk asked.

"Not that it's any of your business," she replied carelessly. "But, as keeper of the Love Magnet, everyone in my realm is forced to love me. Did you not see the Love Magnet hanging over the door of my palace?"

"Yes, I did see it," Kloxolk replied calmly.

"Well, do you not love me?" she asked with a giggle.

"I must admit," he said. "I find myself overcome by a strong feeling of...affection towards Your Greatness and a desire to help you in any way possible."

"Well, good then!" Ozma whooped, leaping up from her throne. "So you can go away and leave us alone, then. We are having dinner."

"I beg your patience," Kloxolk interrupted. "But I have come from Ev on a pressing mission that requires your immediate attention."

Ozma harrumphed and slumped back into her golden-green chair.

"What do they want now?" Ozma asked. "The Nomes attacking again?"

"Well, yes," Kloxolk exclaimed, a little amazed. "There have been several alarming attacks from our Nomish enemies, but that is hardly the issue. The Royal family of Ev fears some great calamity is on the rise in their land, they beg you, their strongest ally, their greatest friend, to come to their aid."

Ozma scoffed. "Evians, always begging for me to save them. Can't you solve all your problems yourself? I'm having dinner!"

"But they are your..."

"No!" she dismissed. "No, you've interrupted my dinner. Naughty naughty." She then picked up a small silver bell and rang it twice: Omby Amby ran to the call of the Ozma.

"You called?"

"Yes, I did," she said. "Take this rude fellow to the prison. Keep him there until he knows what he's opted to deny himself."

"Yes, Your Ozma...ness!"

(AN: This felt like the chapter that would never end!)

(Then again, even when I was working on the early drafts of this story, this mid-section was my least favorite part of writing, because the whole Munchkin revolt has little bearing on the story as a whole and it felt so contrived, and even sillier after I made more discoveries about Ozma's silliness. As you see, I referenced it in this chapter, but I don't think I'll go into depth. Because part of me wants to finish up the whole introduction to our villain, as well as the importance of, well, you know.)